Chapter Text
The last eight days passed in a slow, grueling fashion. After the kiss, Louis ran out of Lestat’s house and has been avoiding him ever since.
Louis could feel the happiness escaping from his body like air from a deflating balloon. He dragged his feet across the floor while putting the last touches on his outfit.
Life had been unbearable the past few days, which was strange because this is the exact way he lived his life before he met Lestat.
Louis had always been a lone wolf. Due to his status as a wealthy, black, Creole man, there weren’t many people who were in the same bracket. Louis could tell by the look in their eyes that they pretended to be happy for him, but would slice his throat if it meant they'd swap places. People like that were no good to have around.
Maybe it is a good thing he and Lestat are on the outs. It gives him a chance to reclaim his independence. Friends come and go. He knows better than to allow himself to be distracted by Lestat. His personal life could never come before the business.
There are no days off; Louis had to stay focused if he wanted to remain competitive with the other businesses in town.
He looked in the mirror and straightened his tie that was already straight. He stops and sighs as he forces his shoulders down from his ears and shakes out his nerves. He practices tightening the muscles in his face. Louis likes the way he looks when he does it because it makes people think twice about messing with him.
With one last glance in the mirror, he left for Liberty Street.
The nightly check on his girls and collection of the money was uneventful. He didn’t want to linger and have conversations now that the only person he wanted to be near was not with him.
There was no one there to “accidentally” kick rocks in his path or sit too close to him on the bench or brush his shoulder as he walked. He missed the attention.
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Exactly one hour passed before he went to look for Lestat.
He checked his townhouse first, but all the lights were turned off. He checked the park next, but their bench was empty. His next stop was Tom Anderson's Fair Play Saloon.
On the drive there, Louis tried to come up with a way to look for Lestat without looking like he was looking for Lestat. He worked hard to keep his proclivities a secret, so he didn’t want to give anyone a reason to speculate why he was asking about a man when there were countless women around.
He sat in his parked car for a moment. He could say he wanted to get a drink, or that they had business to discuss. He could say nothing and find Lestat by himself.
In the end, all that time thinking was wasted because as soon as he walked in, the Madam informed him that Lestat was occupied in a room. Off-putting, but Louis forced himself not to worry because it was well known he and Lestat were pretty inseparable.
Louis thanked her and went down the hall towards the back rooms.
It wasn’t hard to find the room Lestat was in. It was the only door where obnoxiously loud French dirty talk could be heard.
Louis let his head fall against the door. He listened while two voices went back and forth.
Louis had no reason to be upset, but could feel the blood rushing to his ears as he fought the urge to break the door down. For eight days he had thought nonstop about Lestat, so much so that it made it almost impossible to do anything but sit and think.
All that worrying was once sided obviously, because Lestat had spent it whoring around. How could Lestat not be worried about the status of their friendship? It made Louis think he valued their friendship more than Lestat had. He wanted Lestat to be in the house, stressed like he was.
It was infuriating. He locked his jaw and knocked on the door.
“Occupied,” Lestat yelled at the door. Louis could hear the shared laugh from the couple inside. Then he heard the bed shifting and immediately decided he didn’t want to be around to hear much more of this. Even worse, he’s pretty sure Lestat was in there with Lily.
“It’s Louis.” He said through gritted teeth. He could hear Lestat and maybe Lily whisper to each other. “Look, you don’t have to open the door. I just wanted to let you know, that me and the family are having a small get together around eight. You’re welcome; if you want to come.”
“As in a few hours now?” Lestat shouted through the door.
The sound of Lestat’s voice directed at him sent a shock of electricity through Louis’ body.
“Yes,” Louis shouted back.
He realized now how bad this plan is. What sense did it make for Louis to come all the way to the Fair Play, interrupt Lestat having sex, just to invite him to breakfast? “It’d just be good to see a friendly face is all. Goodnight.”
“See you in the morning, Louis.” Lestat shouted back.
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Louis slept better than he had in the past eight days, which was sad because it’d only been six hours since he left the Fair Play. It was breakfast time, and the table was already set when Louis made it downstairs.
There were six place settings on the table. Okay, so he lied about the gathering. So what? It’s not not a gathering; it’s just the gathering was the usual family plus Levy and, hopefully, Lestat.
Louis’ mother looked up like she was about to ask who the extra place setting was for, but when her eyes met Louis’ she decided against it.
Lestat wasn’t there yet, so Louis worked Paul up with talk of Liberty Street. Louis knew this would send Paul into a ten-minute prayer over their meal. That would buy him enough time for Lestat to get there. Although tardiness was not good, the invite had been last-minute, and Louis knew he had a long night. He'll be here.
Sure enough, after ten minutes, Paul stopped praying over the food. To avoid explaining why it is important they wait, Louis had no choice but to allow the meal to proceed.
Louis pushed his eggs from one edge of the plate to the other. He tried his best to keep up with the morning conversation, but he just wasn’t in the mood. His family didn’t notice. They never did, or, worse, they noticed and didn’t care.
Eventually, breakfast was over, and he went back to his room to sulk. Why wouldn’t Lestat come? It was just a kiss, and he seemed into it at the townhouse. They could just pretend it didn’t happen.
Sure, he had panicked when Lestat touched his stomach, but Louis got ahead of himself when he kissed Lestat and didn’t want to ruin their relationship.
He was wrong for shoving Lestat off of him and running out the door. But he’s not perfect. This was something they could work past and never speak of it again for the sake of their friendship.
This was bad. Louis allowed himself to kiss another man, then he ignored said man, and now he wants to be friends again with said man.
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Louis must have fallen asleep because it was dark outside when he woke up. The sweat had caused his shirt to stick to his back. Disgusting. Louis grabbed his washcloth and dry towel and headed to the bathroom.
As his water ran, he thought more about Lestat. The man was infuriating. He stood him up. He lied. Why would he say he was coming, then not come?
While getting in the tub, Louis stubbed his toe on the leg. Fuck me then. All things were working against him.
Baths had always allowed him to ground himself. He lathered the washcloth with soap as he tried to take his mind away from the events of this morning. Somehow, his mind decided to jump to what happened eight nights ago.
Lestat moaned when Louis kissed him, and he leaned in closer.
It made Louis hard just thinking about it. He needed to relax. These types of thoughts are what put him in the position he’s currently in with Lestat.
But, it is sexy that Lestat leaned into the kiss. His body felt heavy and firm against his own, and Louis moaned when Lestat took Louis’ lip between his teeth and sucked on it.
In the tub, a tingling shiver ran from Louis’ head to his toes. In the water, his dick was beginning to rise from its position on his thigh. By instinct, his hand ran down his chest to the base of his dick. There was no point delaying the inevitable.
Relax. He fully grabbed himself and stroked slowly from base to tip. The water of the bath moved in waves around him, and the soap in his hand enhanced the experience.
When they kissed, Lestat’s lips felt cold against his. Would the back of his throat feel cold as well? The thought made his balls start to tighten.
He never allowed himself to think about any of the men he knew in this way. He was far past the point where he thought he could stop stroking himself to men, but when he did, it was better the man be general. An idea versus someone he actually knew and had connections with. This way, both his secret and his heart were protected.
He started to squeeze himself on the upstroke. Still taking it slow.
If he hadn’t run away, Lestat could have done this for him. Stroked Louis at the slow speed he liked, until he released in his hand. Or no, maybe Louis would come on his stomach; that way, he could use his dick to paint his lower abdomen with his seed. Louis De Pointe Picasso.
Louis laughed at his creativity. His pelvic muscles clenched and his toes began to curl. It shouldn’t be long now. He let his fingers squeeze his tip, just enough to send a jolt of pleasure, but not enough to make him finish.
He stopped stroking and just rubbed his tip. Lestat was the first man to work his way into his thoughts, and it felt so fucking good to be stroking himself to him.
Lestat
Louis wanted him so bad. It’d probably feel amazing to push his dick to the back of his throat. How much could he take?
“Lestat.” This time, Louis moaned out loud.
That’s too much to say during sex. His hand froze as he thought about it. Lestat. Stat? No, Les.
Les.
He tried it out in a moan, “Les.”
Yea, Les sounds great.
He resumed his movements and fully relaxed against the tub. His left hand stroked his base as his right hand stroked his tip. He thought again of the feeling of Lestat’s body on top of his.
“Fuckkkk.”
Thick white lines shot into the bath water.
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Bath time didn’t change the fact that it had been a shit day, and likely would be an even shittier night. He did what he always did: he straightened his tie and tightened his face, then left.
When Louis walked outside, Lestat was waiting a few feet from his house.
Lestat had his feet outstretched while his shoulders leaned on a light pole, dressed in a red suit, no jacket, with a blue-collared shirt. Louis could see the glowing embers of his cigarette as he took a drag.
Even after spending nine days thinking about him nonstop, it was a strange, almost uncomfortable feeling seeing Lestat again. His presence reminded him of the shame and guilt he feels. It feels unreal that Lestat is outside his house, smiling as if nothing is wrong.
“Saint Louis,” Lestat said, his voice dripping with amusement.
Had he always sounded this good, or was he intentionally trying to get a rise out of Louis? It would be fair. He left Lestat without a look back and ignored him for the past nine days.
Louis wanted to be angry about breakfast, but the tingles in his heart wouldn’t let him be. He was happy. And relieved.
He was sure, at some point, he’d see Lestat again, but he didn’t know when or for what reason. To have him show up at his house was the best outcome he could have hoped for. Other than breakfast, of course.
Louis closed the gap between him and Lestat, took the cigarette from Lestat’s lips, placed it between his, and took a puff.
It was almost like sharing another kiss. The butt of the cigarette was still wet from Lestat’s mouth.
Louis smiled around the cigarette on the exhale, which caused all the smoke to blow directly into Lestat’s face.
Lestat tilted his head to the side and stared at Louis. He was completely still for three seconds before the edges of his mouth twitched up with a laugh.
Suddenly, the space between them no longer felt tense, and the pure relief of that forced Louis to audibly laugh.
Lestat, no longer able to control himself, laughed too. He pulled out another cigarette from his pocket and put it between his lips.
Louis leaned over, his cigarette firm between his lips, and used it to light Lestat’s new one.
It took a minute to catch fire, so for a moment they just stared at each other, cigarettes touching. It reminded him of the kiss, and suddenly he was right back to where he was nine days ago.
“I got you something,” Lestat said and reached behind his back to pull out a book. “I could not tell you the subject matter, but the art befit the occasion.”
Louis took the book and held it at different angles. It was blue and had three elaborately drawn flowers on it. What did this mean? Why would Lestat bring him a book with flowers?
Oh. The realization made him smile. Flowers. He brought him flowers without bringing him flowers.
“Fitting for a man who would not walk the street with a bouquet of flowers, and just happens to be a book worm.”
Louis thought for a minute. Buying an entire book just for the picture was unconventional, but the thoughtfulness behind the gesture was sweet. Yes, Louis would be uncomfortable walking the street with flowers. That didn’t mean he didn’t want flowers.
Louis smiled. “Thank you.” Unable to let the tenderness linger, he added, “You missed breakfast.”
“You missed nine days and eight nights with me,” Lestat said, as if that somehow balanced the scales. Louis didn’t argue. He was definitely getting the better end of the deal.
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The night carried on as they usually did. They were on the way back to Lestat’s townhouse at the moment.
For the last twenty minutes, Lestat had been on an emotional rant about the local opera house.
There had been a time when hearing about the opera would have made him find any excuse to go home, but because it was Lestat, he feigned an interest, pretending to be outraged at the appropriate times.
They were only a couple of blocks from the townhouse.
They should talk about the kiss. Not because it’d change the conversation from the opera, but because Louis wanted it to happen again, and he didn’t know what Lestat wanted.
“About the kiss,” Louis started, interrupting Lestat.
“Yes, what about it? I know I am such a great kisser that I scared you.” Lestat said before Louis could complete his thought. “It is okay. It isn’t the first time that’s happened.” Lestat winks, and Louis fights the jealousy rising in his chest.
Lestat was a great kisser, but the thought of telling him that made him gag; no need to inflate an already big head.
“Meh. You’re okay,” Louis shrugged.
Lestat breathed out an exasperated huff, “Oh? Just okay? Compared to who?”
“Me.” Louis deadpanned.
Lestat paused. It was clear by the look on his face that he knew exactly what game Louis was playing and where it would lead, but Lestat fed into the game anyway.
“ Non ,” Lestat exclaimed, in disbelief.
“ ‘Non’” Louis mocked. “ Qui.”
Lestat walked into the townhouse, and Louis followed after him.
“You should not use my native tongue for such blasphemy,” he said dramatically. “ Non. If you speak the truth, show me.”
Louis pushed Lestat until he was cornered against the wall. He brought his hands to Lestat’s hips and lowered his lips onto his.
Lestat didn’t miss a beat and brought his hand up to Louis’ face.
The kiss was nervous at first. Louis, not knowing what to do, and Lestat not wanting to cross any boundaries. Then Lestat sucked his lip loudly, then released it. It was so outrageous that it caused them to laugh and effectively broke the tension.
When their lips met again, it was more greedy. Lestat untucked Louis’ shirt and pushed him back until he was on the couch. The same position from a little over a week ago.
“Louis, do tell me before you run this time.” Lestat teased.
“Shut up, Lestat.” Louis said in between kisses.
“Don’t you mean, Les?”
Louis didn’t have time to process that because he was too much into the kiss.